


Inception

by hannahuwu



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Happy Ending, High School, M/M, Yeosang is the spirit guardian of a sakura tree, would probably write a sequel if you asked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25691926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahuwu/pseuds/hannahuwu
Summary: Love, San thinks, could probably be replaced with power.
Relationships: Choi San & Jung Wooyoung, Choi San & Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	Inception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sxgxls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxgxls/gifts).



_“Ah, my lucky charm is gone!”_ Wooyoung frowned. 

_“A lucky charm?”_ Mingi had questioned, looking up from where he was immersed in a game on his phone. 

_“Yeah, it looked like a smiling flower.”_ He huffed out. _“It was tied to my bag, shit, help my search for it, guys.”_ He motioned for his friends, Mingi and Yunho, the class giants and arguably the fluffiest couple of the school to follow him out. 

Nobody knew where it had disappeared off to. Everybody was bewildered. 

Everybody- except one. 

That day, he felt a sense of power. His empty eyes stared on out of the window towards the group of boys that walked around almost aimlessly, looking through the large tufts of grass. 

~

“Looks like they’re in season again,” San snapped out of his trance. 

“What are?” he pushed his bangs out of his face, turning to look at Jongho as they walked back to class. Jongho was a year younger, but a high IQ and ridiculously high exam scores had landed him the opportunity to leap a year- one he had taken with little hesitation. San respected him for that, in a sense. Mostly because Jongho helped him out in subjects he was weak at, and never a day went when Jongho hadn’t finished his homework. 

“The sakura. It’s their blooming season, no? I’m sure the sakura tree by the west block is in full swing now.” Jongho sighed. “Wouldn’t it be nice if they planted one on the east grounds? Then we’d have one close by,” 

“We do,” San piped up quietly, gripping the broom in his hold.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s by the garbage disposal huts.” 

“How do you know?” Jongho gestured to the very barren tree that could be seen from the half-walled hallway they walked through. 

“I’ve seen it bloom before,” San furrowed his eyebrows. When? But he was so sure he’d seen the pink petals at some point. 

“Well, it’s not blooming now. And I didn’t see it bloom last year,” Jongho shrugged, pushing the glass sliding doors open. “Oy, Wooyoung! Mingi! Yunho! I know for a fact you guys are on cleaning duty today. At least go take the trash out,” The younger huffed. The said boys were crowded around one over-vandalised table, alternating between shoving fistfuls of honey butter chips in their mouths and swatting each other over the sounds of Yunho’s customised Nintendo switch. 

Wooyoung pouted. “Aw, come on, Jong-ie! What will it take you to address us with formalities?”

“When you prove to be smarter than me. Plus, I’m class monitor.” 

“Welp, I can’t go. You know what they say about the trash place. It’s haunted. I’m a scaredy-cat. Which means I can’t go,” He fluttered his eyes dramatically. 

“Me too!” Mingi chimed in.

“Me three!” Yunho sing-songed. San patted Jongho’s shoulder as the younger mumbled incoherent curses under his breath.

“It’s okay, Jongho, I’ll go,” he whispered, walking over to take the garbage bag out of the wooden wicker bin.

“But hyung-“ 

“Be careful, San!” Wooyoung piped up, laughing. 

“Shut up, Wooyoung,” Jongho rolled his eyes.

“I mean, San looks like he’d probably be able to befriend the ghosts,” Mingi chirped. That got a rise out of the entire class, Jongho pinching the bridge of his nose. _What did they mean by that?_ San wanted to ask- but he held his tongue instead, opting to tie the end of the bag up to avoid spilling its contents.

“Hey, San? Why do you always look so dark and stressed out?” Wooyoung’s voice cut through the sound as San had stepped out. He paused— _that …hurt._

“Shit, dude, he ignored you!” Mingi’s loud voice resonated. 

“If you guys don’t clam up, I’ll make sure you do.” Jongho’s voice followed.

“San! I’m sorry!” He heard Wooyoung’s voice quieten as the tapping of his shoes grew frantically. _Leave leave leave;_ his mind chanted over and over. 

As soon as he stepped out, a tear slid down his face. _So, people avoid me because I look gloomy_. He rubbed at his eye with a hand, trying to maintain a smile while droplets of salty clear liquid dropped to the ground. With that, he let the bag fall, leaning back on the barren tree before sinking, gathering his knees close to his chest.

“Why are you crying?” A soft voice called out. San whipped his head back, only to see perhaps the most ethereal looking man he’d ever laid eyes on in his entire life. “Y’know, crying during spring was once considered a bad omen.” The man had long locks of hair, not unlike the pink shades of sakura, flowing down to his waist despite being held up in a high ponytail with a white ribbon. His sleeves were long enough to leave just the tips of his fingers peeking out when they were fully extended, the soft material flowing in the breeze. The outfit he wore made him look like he walked out of the light- white silk robes donned with rose gold embroidery alongside a belt looped around his waist that looked a lot like intertwined branches. Despite being about San’s height, his presence felt overwhelming. Soft, faintly cloying but pleasant flowery scents enveloped him a warm hold as the man looked at him from up in the branches of the tree. 

“Who-“ San rasped out, scrambling back in a panic. He’d never seen this guy around before. 

“I’m the spirit that watches over this tree.” He pulled his hood back, exposing more of his flawless features. A birthmark in the shape of sakura overlapping boldly stood out on the side of his face. “My name is Kang Yeosang,” he raised an eyebrow at the boy who was still slowly crawling backwards. “At least have the decency to present yourself to me properly.”

“This tree-“ San inhaled, “-so you’re a ghost? A s-spirit?” he breathed out sharply when Yeosang leapt from the branch and landed in front of him gracefully, his skirt billowing out like ripples in the water. 

“Yes,” he smoothed out his clothes when his feet touched the ground. “So if you feel the sudden need to launch into hysteria, you can begin now. I’m the guardian of this sakura tree, Choi San.” 

San’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a goldfish. “I’m talking to a ghost right now.” 

“For fuck’s sake…” Yeosang pinched his sharp nose bridge. “Are all high school students this deaf? What, did a beetle crawl into your ears or something? You shove an AirPod in there?” He cocked his head, crossing his pale arms over his chest. _Ah,_ San felt another tear fall. _I’m seeing things now;_ he began to hiccup as a steady stream dropped out. 

“So this is a sakura tree, huh?” He attempted a laugh, choking back a sob. Yeosang visibly softened, reaching out to wipe his face with his fingers gently.

“Hey, stop crying. If anyone sees us, it’ll look like I made you cry.” He scowled playfully. 

“It’s not-“ he hiccuped again, “-it’s not like that.” _Am I dreaming?_

“I don’t have anything else to do so that you can tell me.” Yeosang plopped down beside him, legs crossed on top of each other with his eyes shut. _He has white eyelashes,_ San looked on, still very much starstruck. Amazingly, his clothes were still stainless. “I’m a spirit, so there’s nobody else I can tell besides this tree. Other people run off at the sight of me.” San drooped. Was this what his life had come to? 

“Ever since my first year here, I’ve had a crush on this guy.” He leaned back against the tree, fingers playing with the hem of his blazer. “But I’ve never had enough confidence in myself to talk to him.” He tugged at a loose thread. “For the first time since I moved in, he spoke to me today.”

“Oh?” Yeosang peeked an eye open. 

“He made fun of me, I guess. Or mocked me. I should’ve been able to roll with some comeback or play it off. Instead, I’m here- sulking like a little kid.” He sniffled. “I hate myself.”

Yeosang hummed. “If that’s so, think about this entire occurrence this way.” The watcher turned to look right at him. “If a man makes you cry, there should be someone to comfort you, like I’m currently doing right now. I’m a better man than whoever he is.” He poked San’s cheek. “Me, this much better man than the guy you’re seemingly in love with, is sitting right next to you. So be happy.” 

Watching Yeosang, San had to admit. Despite being a man, Yeosang indeed was pretty. He snorted. “Well, why is this ‘much better man than the guy I’m in love with’ talking to me? Nobody’s ever really seen you before, right?” 

Yeosang traced the embroidery on his sleeve lazily. “My tree hasn’t bloomed in five years,” he groaned. “Because although I am the guardian of this tree, I get sleepy. And being sleepy means sleeping through the entirety of spring.” San looked at him in disbelief. _That would explain why the tree was always so lifeless._ “Last year, I tried my best to wake up, but I was in a position that was too comfortable to move from.” 

“Where do you even sleep?” San prompted.

“I thought this year would go differently, but I was asleep for most of today as well. Hence my empty tree.” The pink-haired man opted not to answer San’s question. “But you told your friend you’d seen my tree bloom last year despite it being the least bit,” a smile graced his features, “Your words gave me the motivation to stay awake, San.”

“Wait, I never told you my name-“ “I heard your friend saying it earlier. Anyhow, it’s why I couldn’t watch as you cried. I needed to thank you for giving me a bit of strength to work through this season.” Yeosang yawned. _How can he be so straightforward?_ San wondered. Well, if there were no reason for Yeosang to hold back, he wouldn’t either. He cleared his throat. 

“Now that you’re awake, can I expect the sakura on your tree to bloom this season finally?”

“Unless I fall asleep, sure.” 

“What happened to being motivated?” San laughed. He felt comfortable around Yeosang. _If only I could be relaxed enough to speak to Wooyoung._ “If that’s the case, I’ll come to wake you up every day, so you don’t oversleep, Yeosang.” He grinned. “I’ll be your alarm clock!”

 _“I’ll look forward to it, San.”_ Yeosang’s deep voice as he chuckled replayed in San’s mind as he made his way back to the classroom. 

“Choi San! What took you so long, dammit!” He flinched. 

“We were all waiting for you to get back before we left. What took you so long?” Another glower in his direction.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. _Why can’t all of you just leave before I’m done? Not like you haven’t done it before. Just ditch me._

“San,” Jongho helped him gather his books from the desk into his bag. They’d be going home together that day since Jongho had promised to tutor him again. 

“San,” another voice piqued. Wooyoung. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” He muttered without sparing a second glance, Mingi and Yunho following behind him with their fingers linked. 

“You okay?” Jongho questioned. 

“Peachy perfect,” he’d assured the younger as they jogged towards the bus stop. And for once, San knew he wasn’t lying about feeling alright.

~

“Yeosang!” He’d yelled out the next morning, a few minutes too early for any other student to be around. 

“San,” 

“You’ve already worked a few up to blooming; I’m so proud of you.” He pointed out as Yeosang pulled him onto a low but sturdy branch. “I’m sure it’ll look prettier when you grow more.” Yeosang’s head dipped forward. _He was falling asleep,_ San giggled. “Oi! Yeosang!” He grabbed the other by the shoulders, shaking him. Nothing. “You leave me no choice, I suppose.” San sighed as he cracked his knuckles. Yeosang immediately clicked onto the noise, eyes widening as he leaned away from San. 

“Were you about to punch me?” He looked at the other in disbelief. 

“What? Of course not! I was just going to slap you.” His teeth gleamed cheekily. 

“Sure, sure,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. His hair was up in a bun now, bound together with a single twig. “So that you know, I’m not making myself visible to anyone else besides you. I’m not in the mood to scare anybody at the moment. So you better keep me a secret,” he prodded at San’s shoulder. 

“I will,” San replied as he looked towards the direction of students streaming into the classrooms. “I swear.” 

As days turned to weeks, San was unable to deny how comforting Yeosang’s presence in his life was. When Yeosang was there with him, it felt as if his heart was in a state of spring- petals falling over each other in a symphony of nature. _“Let me be your spring, Sannie.”_ Yeosang had murmured when San voiced out how he felt. While his thoughts hammered through, one shone. San wanted to be someone’s spring, just as Yeosang was his. Yeosang, who kissed the petals of the flowers that fell into his hands. Yeosang, who’d pulled San into a tender embrace when he’d aced his math test. Yeosang, who’d noticed the woven cherry blossom themed bracelet he’d wrapped around his wrist. 

As someone who’d rarely been given affection, San was ecstatic. And yet, he’d so wanted a compliment from Yeosang- something he’d however to receive. Sure, Yeosang had told him the bracelet was cute. Still, Yeosang had been talking about the bracelet and not him, which brings him to this moment, where a baseball cap sits over his head. At the same time, he approaches Yeosang who’s seated on a branch, fingers trailing over each unopened bud. 

“Sangie!” 

“Why the hat?” Yeosang jested. 

“Why don’t you come and find out?” San stuck his tongue out. Yeosang shook his head but dropped to the ground, hand raising to pull the cap off. Well? San shut his eyes. 

“Your hair— it’s blonde,” he said in disbelief, threading his fingers through the newly bleached hair. “And it’s not crispy!” He giggled. San joined in. He’d told Yeosang about it before, how he’d been tempted to bleach his hair. “Bleach?” Yeosang had asked, very much confused. 

“Yeah, I invested in some pretty high-quality products to keep my hair from snapping in half.” 

“You neatened your bangs out too,” Yeosang commented, still brushing through the light strands. “It looks like there’s spring on top of your head.” San felt his face heat up. 

“Does it— does it look nice?” He asked silently. 

“You look beautiful, Sannie.” San blinked. Then he felt his brain check out for the day. _He thinks I’m beautiful._ “It’s cute, Sannie. You’re cute. See, boys your age should learn how to be fashionable. Especially boys that are clouded by love,” he winked, nudging at San’s side. _He complimented me._

With the change of style, San felt himself loosen. He’d even went ahead and pierced his ears, choosing the titanium barbells with enamel flowers screwed onto the edges. Of course, he’d heard the gossip that flew by. Ranging from _“San’s got a boyfriend now?”_ to _“Maybe he landed himself with a sugar daddy.”_ Still, he’d said nothing, dismissing them as he continued to socialise more, accepting Jongho’s suggestions of going out to karaoke, or tagging along with the friends Jongho had been trying to introduce him to previously, Hongjoong and Seonghwa, to go shopping. 

And yet at the heart of it all, was Yeosang. His mornings consisted of him coming an hour earlier to school so that they’d be able to spend time, and staying back to rest his head in Yeosang’s lap while the guardian told him about all the things he’d seen while existing. _“It would shock you to know how many teachers in this school hook up with their students,”_ Yeosang had told him once, however refusing to give any names. _“That would ruin the fun now, wouldn’t it? But you can take guesses.”_ He’d tapped his chin, pretending to think. _“Yes, Wooyoung has.”_ San gasped.

 _“With who?”_ Yeosang shrugged. 

_“You could ask him yourself, I guess.”_ His purple eyes had glinted mischievously. 

“Would you like to watch a movie with us after school later?” Jongho leaned into San’s side as they made space for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to sit with them at lunch. The seniors looked at San for an answer. 

“Um,” he bit his lip. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got my gardening activity then, and I need to type up the club report as the head’s assistant.” 

Jongho poked at a strange-looking meatball with his fork. “Gardening? Isn’t Wooyoung in that club too? Come to think of it, isn’t he the head of the club?” San paused. “I’ve never seen him go with you though, why don’t you tell him?” Me? Tell Wooyoung? San shook his head.

“It’s okay; I don’t mind doing it alone.” _There’s no way I’d ask Wooyoung. Us? Alone? I’d be a stuttering mess._ He glanced at his watch. There was still enough time for him to see Yeosang. “I’ll get going now. Bye!” He excused himself, tossing the empty brown paper bag into the bin. _Does Wooyoung even remember about the activity? Maybe I should tell him? But then I wouldn’t get to see Yeosang alone-_

“San, be careful!” He felt an arm tug him slightly backwards before he could fall into the compost pit. Yeosang tutted at him. “Now, what were you thinking of until you almost fell into a hole?” San blinked once, twice, trying to regain composure.

“Just wondering what I should do, Sangie.” He murmured as Yeosang pulled him up the tree into his lap, clothed in the comfortable fabric of his white robes. 

“Is that guy you like still bullying you, mayhaps?” Yeosang brushed through his hair with a meticulously detailed solid gold comb. San flushed, cheeks dusted the same colour as Yeosang’s hair. 

“Wooyoung’s never bullied me!” He interjected. “And besides, we haven’t spoken to each other since that day.” He trailed off. “I don’t mind just being able to watch him from a distance, but he feels a lot like a rose with thorns, don’t you think?” 

“That’s bullshit,” Yeosang pinched San’s side, causing him to yelp. “When I first met you, you had the aura of an ill person. But now, you’re like a flower. You’re supposed to be the rose with thorns,” He threaded a few flowers through the colourful bobby pins San wore. “Oh, you smell wonderful today, Sannie.” 

“Do I smell bad every other day?” He jutted his bottom lip out. Yeosang patted his head.

“No. Of course, there was that one time you smelled a lot like sweat.” He winked playfully.

“That’s because I just got back from gym class!” He attempted to pinch back— _curse Yeosang’s robe for having so many slippery layers._ “Anyway, it’s the smell of my lotion. Hongjoong gave it to me yesterday, so I thought I’d try it out.” San puffed his cheeks out when Yeosang laughed at his failure to inflict pain, leaning back into the guardian’s chest. “You smell nice too, Yeosang.” 

“It’s partially thanks to you, Sannie.” His smile widened. “If it weren’t for my living alarm clock, we wouldn’t have gotten to the point,” he gestured to the full-bloomed cherry blossom tree. “San-“ he tilted San’s chin to look at him but was immediately cut off by the school bell. “You should go now.” San nodded, lowering himself to run back to class.

“San-hyung! Get over here before Mr Min does, or I won’t be able to excuse you out of another detention!” They both heard Jongho yell. 

“Coming!” San shouted back, turning around briefly to wave at Yeosang before sprinting towards the building. He made a noise of relief as he managed to sink into his chair before their music teacher arrived, glaring at a visibly amused Jongho. 

“You and your sakura tree obsession,” Jongho teased as a gust of wind burst through the window, immediately walking over to shut it, but not before a few loose petals flew in. “Ah, the flowers are dropping. After all, we’re coming to the end of spring.”

 _That’s right. The sakura will wilt, and fall._ Something akin to pain flashed within San. _What will happen to Yeosang…when all the flowers fall?_ The lesson shot by, San making little effort to pay attention when he knew he’d be able to catch up with Jongho tonight. The perks of being neighbours with the smartest pupil in your class were many. If he could finish the written report in time, there would still be an hour left before he’d be asked to leave school grounds. _Yeosang, what will happen to you when spring ends?_ He wanted to ask. 

Suddenly, the door slammed open. “San! I’m so sorry, is the activity over?” He blanked. _What._

“Woo-wooyoung?”

“I’ve always wanted to come, but I keep forgetting the dates for these. You’ve never reminded me either, San.”

“I thought you wouldn’t attend even if I asked you too,” he mumbled. 

“I know you think I’m a bad student, but I’m relatively responsible. Have some faith in me,” he pulled out his pencil case, sitting opposite the blonde. “So what are you doing?” San gulped. 

“Well, I’m writing a club report.” 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier. What sections haven’t you written yet? I’ll do it.”

San flipped through the pages. “The club’s finance, and the proposal to build a proper mini garden.”

Wooyoung huffed. “You’d never be able to finish those on your own, San. Next time you need to tell me. Okay? I’ll give you my number after this. Feel free to text me or give me a call whenever we’ve got the activity.” _His number? Wait, oh god, we’re alone in a classroom! Breathe in, San, breathe in._ A few beats of silence passed as they carried on writing.

“Wooyoung-ssi,” San called out. 

“Yes? And please, just Wooyoung is fine.”

“Why did you join this club? It’s just… you don’t seem like the kind of person who would be into gardening,” Wooyoung cocked his head sideways, staring at San. 

“I’m not. Into gardening, I mean. Why did you join?” 

To be honest, San had joined only because Wooyoung had. But he’d rather drown before having to admit that openly to Wooyoung himself. “I like gardening,” he calmly put forward instead. _Half-truth._ “You?”

“It’ll sound a bit pathetic, but I lost something last year. It was a lucky charm in the shape of cherry blossom, and it had a smiley face.” He swapped the pen in his hold for another from his pencil case. “Truthfully, it didn’t suit my aesthetic one bit, as you can tell it’s the whole get-up I’ve got going on,” he gestured said to the kohl that lined his eyes and the lip piercing, “but it was the only thing my mother left me.” San felt his heart drop. “It made sense to join a club that involved going around school grounds, I guess. Mingi told me that maybe I’d be able to find it.” 

“A Sakura lucky charm...” San breathed out shakily. “How long did you have it for?”

_I didn’t know. I didn’t realise it meant that much to him._

“Since the middle school entry exams? Quite a while. My mom left us pretty early on.” _I took something so precious that belonged to the person I loved._ “It was the last thing she gave me.” Wooyoung smiled sadly. “Let’s finish up so we can go home, yeah?”

San blinked. “Oh. Yeah.” 

The rest of the session went in silence, ending with Wooyoung walking home _(“I live right behind the school, can’t miss it!”),_ and San catching the bus. 

The silence was the worst of friends because it made you remember. 

_A year ago, I stole something that belonged to the boy I fell in love with. At first, I was going to bury it by the school pond. But then, I chose to have it embedded below the tree behind our main building. It was then. It was then that I saw a petal flutter down, a pink petal. The petal of cherry blossom. That’s when I discovered it was a Sakura tree._

_“I’ve seen it bloom before,” Yeosang? He said— “the first time I saw you,” and the first time he saw me—Yeosang? You saw? He must have. It was then when I buried the lucky charm when I discovered it was a sakura tree, and it was then Yeosang saw me for the first time._

“I’m so sorry; please stop the bus. I need to get off.” San breathed heavily, clutching onto his chest. 

“Are you okay?” The driver asked, concerned. 

“I’m fine, Ahjussi.” He tapped the card, immediately running back in the direction of the school, jumping over the brick fence.   
  
The darkness was unkind, he thought, as he fell on a hard patch of gravel, skinning his knees. San winced, pulling out his phone to use as a flashlight. 

“Sannie?” He heard a voice rasp out. Yeosang. “What are you doing here at this hour? You should be-“ Yeosang paused as San dug into the dirt before his tree, sobbing. 

“You’ve seen me, Yeosang! You saw me!” He screamed, clawing wildly. Yeosang flinched. “You saw what an ugly person I was, inside out! Didn’t you?” He could feel the outer layer of the skin on his finger tear as rough rocks marred his hands. “It’s been buried here for a year! A fucking year, Yeosang! It must be ruined. What am I going to do? How do I return it to him?” He shivered, voice cracking as he cried. 

“Sannie,” Yeosang’s gentle voice called out, tilting his chin upwards.

“What?” He inhaled sharply at the object Yeosang dangled in front of his face. 

“This thing you buried,” Yeosang placed it gently in San’s hand, “I kept it this entire time. I’m so sorry, San.” He pulled back. “I don’t want to see it anymore. Please, take it.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the guardian. _Shame. So much shame._ “I dyed my hair and changed into a chirpier person. Someone easier to approach. I was so happy when you called me beautiful Yeosang.” San held both his palms up, cradling his face. “I buried me who was ugly, who was arrogant and never cared, I pretended it never existed. And all along, I’d never realised you’d seen the worst of me despite all I’ve done to change.” He gasped for air, coughing as he tasted the saltiness of the tears that escaped. “There’s no way I could be beautiful- I could never! Everything is meaningless, isn’t it? What am I? An idiot? I’m so embarrassed, I-“ he paused. “-I can’t bring myself to look at you anymore, Yeosang. I don’t deserve to.” 

“Sannie,” Yeosang called out again as San climbed halfway up the brick fence. He stopped, seating himself at the top. Even if he’d decided he was unworthy of the guardian, he’d still listen. “When my tree has shed every last flower, I will fall into a slumber, until the next spring visits. I might not be around by the time you calm down. But I want you to remember this: being able to be honest with the person you love is a beautiful feeling. But what is more, so much more beautiful than that is when you fall in love.” Yeosang settled back into his position among the branches. “You’ve truly become beautiful, Sannie. Go, get home safe.” 

When he falls to other side of the wall, he texts Wooyoung. The boy responds with an address not too far from school, and San bolts. 

“Hey, San! What’s up? Whoa, you okay? What happened to your hands?” 

“Wooyoung-“ San chokes out, thrusting the lucky charm into the other’s hold. “I’m sorry. I was the one who stole your lucky charm from your bag.”

“Wait. Why? I don’t get it. Why would you?” Wooyoung puzzles, turning the lucky charm over in his grasp. 

“I fell in love with you, Wooyoung, upon joining this school. But I’ve never been able to tell you. I simply watched as you and your friends frantically search for it. I was happy. I thought I was happy because I felt like I had some sort of power over you. I wanted to be able to hold onto something that made me feel powerful.” _I’m finally letting it out._ “I completely understand if you hate me. Insult me if you want, I’ll take it.” San squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I’m happy,” Wooyoung softly said. “I knew if I joined the gardening club, I’d be able to find it.” He dangled the lucky charm. “See? Found it!” He laughed. “I’ve finally found it.” Cherry blossoms fluttered in the wind, falling from the tree in front of his house. To anybody else watching, it would look romantic. Especially as Wooyoung shyly took both of San’s hands into his and asked him out on a date. But all San could think about was how the petals were falling, and of the guardian of the sakura tree, he’d come to adore. _Yeosang._

“I have to go, Wooyoung,” his eyes watered again. Wooyoung nodded, pulling him into an embrace before waving San off. 

“See you tomorrow, San.” 

“See you!” He smiled, going off in the direction of the school again. It was eleven, and if he weren’t home in half an hour, he’d be in trouble. But as he flung himself over the brick fences for the second time that night, finding himself in Yeosang’s arms instead of the gravel, he couldn’t care less about the punishment that would come his way. 

“Somehow I knew you’d be coming back,” the guardian whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from the blonde’s face. 

“I returned it, Sangie. I returned the lucky charm, and Wooyoung forgives me.” He snuggled deeper into Yeosang’s hold, wrapping his arms around his neck tighter. “Please, please don’t hate me. Because I love you, Yeosang.” He cried into the white robes, and for the first time— witnessed them being stained. 

“I could never hate you,” the guardian held him closer, caressing his face. “I love you too, Choi San. And I’ll always love you, regardless of if you love me back. I’ll be here, right under the sakura tree when the next spring comes. Will you wait for me?”

San peered up through his lashes at the man before him.

**_“I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you if only you’d ask, Yeosang.”_ **

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twt aaaa @hannah_uwo


End file.
